


The Perils Of Peach Picking

by sonata_de_morte



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Fruit, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonata_de_morte/pseuds/sonata_de_morte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy was a terrible person. On top of being a terrible person, he was a sodding tease. On top of being a sodding tease, he was fucking gorgeous. Too gorgeous for his own fucking good, Harry Potter thought mutinously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perils Of Peach Picking

Draco Malfoy was a terrible person. On top of being a terrible person, he was a sodding tease. On top of being a sodding tease, he was fucking gorgeous. Too gorgeous for his own fucking good, Harry Potter thought mutinously as he watched his housemate sit on the counter of their kitchen.   
  
Really, Draco sitting on the counter was enough to make Harry want to do dirty, wicked things to him. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about seeing refined, pure blooded Draco doing something as common as perching on the marble countertop that sent Harry’s libido into a tizzy. So it would have been bad enough if this was all that the blond was doing.   
  
But no.  
  
Draco was also eating a peach.   
  
Harry had brought a basket of the sweet fruit home after a day spent peach picking with Hermione. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Mrs Weasley wanted some peaches for canning and making pie, and since there was no way in hell Ron or George were going to do it, Hermione and Harry had offered. He hadn’t minded; he was always willing to do things for his adopted mother. Plus Harry liked peaches.  
  
Or at least he  _ had _ liked them. Now he didn’t think he would ever look at the fruit the same way again. And all because of Draco bloody Malfoy.   
  
Who did he think he was, sat on the counter, biting into the soft flesh of the peach in his hand with his even, white teeth? He had some nerve, just sitting there, using that pink tongue to chase the juice that dripped from the fruit down his fingers and wrist, acting all nonchalant like he wasn’t making Harry’s jeans uncomfortably tight.   
  
The bastard.   
  
People had told him that living with Draco Malfoy would not be easy. They’d said it would be dangerous, even. But Harry had waved their concerns away. Draco wasn’t the same person anymore, and he needed a place to stay after the Ministry seized the Manor. His mother had gotten her own house, but Draco didn’t really fancy the idea of living in close quarters with the woman. He and Harry had been getting along, and Grimmauld Place was too large for just Harry, so Draco moved in.   
  
It only took six months of living with the blond for Harry to realize that he was hopelessly attracted to him.  
  
That had been three years previous.   
  
Now Harry was sat at his kitchen table watching Draco all but fellate his fingers in an attempt to rid them of the sweet, sticky juice. It was enough to try the patience of a saint, and despite what the  _ Prophet  _ said (when they were on his side, anyway), he was no saint.  
  
He got to his feet abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor behind him. Draco looked at him with startled grey eyes as he took another bite of the peach, a rivulet of juice running down his hand, making its way down to his forearm.   
  
Harry locked eyes with Draco as he stalked towards him, getting right up in the blond’s personal space. “Sometimes,” he said, his voice low and rough with arousal, “I remember why I didn’t used to like you all that much.”   
  
Draco frowned. “Potter, what-?” he managed to get out before Harry seized his wrist and licked the juice from it, his tongue sliding down to get every last bit.  
  
Only when Harry was sure that Draco’s arm was juice free did he raise his head. His eyes were dark and intense, holding Draco in his spot.   
  
“ What is the  _ matter _ with you?” the blond demanded, staring right back at Harry, but not removing his arm from the bruising grip.  
  
“ Stop. Talking,” Harry practically growled. “I’ve been talking to you for years now, and I’m tired of it.”   
  
“ Oh, well, I’m terribly sorry that my conversational skills are not up to your usual standards,” Draco snapped. “I’m sure the Weasel is more on your mmph!”   
  
Whatever Ron was, was never discovered as Harry had released Draco’s wrist, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and tugged him down to capture his lips in an abrupt kiss. This was Gryffindor courage at its best, and most foolhardy, and Harry spared a moment to think that all of this could blow up quite spectacularly in his face. Especially since it had been several seconds and Draco hadn’t reacted yet.  
  
Harry pulled back, releasing Draco’s shirt and biting his lip. “I...er-”   
  
Draco held up the hand not currently occupied by the half eaten peach. “Stop. Talking.” He set the fruit down and slid from the counter. Without taking his eyes away from Harry’s, he slowly licked each sticky finger, that dexterous tongue sliding over and wrapping around the digits, before he slipped his index finger into his mouth, sucking at it. He did this with each finger in turn, never looking away from Harry.  
  
With a lewd pop, Draco pulled off of his pinky and tilted his head. “Does this do something for you?” he asked, smug nonchalance dripping from every word.   
  
Harry swallowed hard, all of his earlier bravado gone in the face of this. He’d been prepared for yelling, perhaps even a bout of hexing, but not for the heated look in those silvery grey eyes. Harry had never even entertained the possibility that Draco might... _ reciprocate. _  
  
A deep chuckle that tightened things low in his body, broke Harry from his reverie. “Wh-what?” he stammered, mouth dry.  
  
“ I asked,” Draco purred, stepping closer. “If this did something for you. Me and the peach, I mean.”   
  
It was all Harry could do to nod.   
  
“ Do you have some kind of peach fetish?” the blonde continued, leaning even closer.   
  
Harry shook his head no.  
  
An almost feral grin broke over Draco’s face then. “Then can I assume that you’re reacting so-” he dropped his eyes to the noticeable bulge in Harry’s jeans, before raising them back to his face, “-ardently because of me? One likes to be sure about these things.”   
  
Harry blinked, opened his mouth, and then blinked again. Finally he closed his mouth, realizing that words just were not going to happen, and nodded.   
  
Draco’s grin turned joyful and then predatory. He leaned in those last few inches and pressed his lips to Harry’s.  
  
It was a soft kiss, still a bit hesitant even now, and it brought Harry back to his senses. He could taste the sweet juice from the peach on Draco’s lips, and he leaned in more, trying to find out what else his housemate might taste like.   
  
As if anticipating Harry’s desire, Draco parted his lips invitingly, running his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip and then retreating.   
  
Harry took the opening without hesitation, letting his tongue slide into Draco’s mouth, chasing the taste of peach and Draco’s own unique flavor. A low, guttural moan burst out of him as he let his arms make their way around the blond’s slender waist, pulling him in even closer.   
  
He’d imagined kissing Draco before, of course. Probably at least once a night since he first realized that he was attracted to the git. The kisses in his mind had varied from soft to demanding to tender to bruising, but never had he pictured it being like this.   
  
This was give and take at its finest.   
  
Their mouths molded together near perfectly, meeting again and again as their tongues slid against each other.   
  
Draco’s hands had come to clutch at Harry’s back and his hips pushed forward, letting his own jean clad erection brush teasingly against Harry’s.   
  
“ _ Draco _ ,” Harry moaned, pressing back against him, seeking out more of that tantalizing friction. To his great dismay, Draco pulled away, pressing one last kiss to Harry’s lips. Before he had the chance to complain, the blond was dropping gracefully to his knees in front of him.   
  
Harry’s eyes widened. “Draco. Wh-what are you doing?”  
  
“ Honestly, Potter,” Draco replied with a smirk, letting his fingers slide along the bulge that was right on his eye level. “I should think that would be self explanatory.” Those nimble fingers flicked the button of Harry’s jeans out of its hole, and grasped the zipper, sliding it down. A small smile flickered around Draco’s mouth when he saw Harry’s erection straining against the fabric of his boxers, precome soaking into the green fabric.   
  
Draco grinned his approval. “You even wrapped it in Slytherin green,” he said. “And it’s not even my birthday.” He slid Harry’s jeans down to his ankles before hooking his fingers into the waistband of the boxers. “This would be the time to tell me to stop, if you’re going to.”   
  
“ Not bloody likely,” Harry ground out, eyes dark with want.   
  
Without further ado, Draco slid the boxers down to join the jeans, licking his lips as Harry’s cock was freed. He took a moment to study it. After all, it wasn’t every day that he got to see Harry Potter’s dick.   
  
It was longer that he would have expected, and thick enough to make his mouth water. Drops of clear fluid welled up at the slit, threatening to spill over and run down the veined shaft, but Draco’s tongue got there first. He licked up Harry’s cock, savoring the salty fluid and the clean, musky taste of the skin under his tongue.   
  
Harry let out a strangled moan, his hands coming up to thread into Draco’s soft blond hair. It had been quite some time since anyone had been in such close proximity to his bits, and he’d been denying how much he missed it.   
  
“ Draco,” he groaned.   
  
“ Yes?” the blond responded, looking up at Harry from his spot on the floor.  
  
“ _ Please _ .”   
  
“ Patience is a virtue, Potter,” Draco replied with a teasing grin. He gave Harry’s cock one last long lick and turned to wandlessly summon the half eaten peach from the counter. He took a messy bite, letting the juice run down and collect in the palm of his hand. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, Draco spread the juice over Harry’s erection and returned to lapping at it, making low appreciative noises.  
  
“ I swear, Draco, if you don’t--”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and took the hard length into the wet heat of his mouth, effectively cutting Harry off.   
  
Harry’s fingers tightened in Draco’s hair, and he couldn’t help but buck his hips, shoving more of himself into Draco’s mouth. “Merlin  _ fuck _ !” he cried out, already teetering on the edge of his climax from just this.   
  
Draco reached up to grip Harry’s hips, massaging his hipbones with his thumbs. His head bobbed up and down, taking in more and more of his mouthful until his nose was brushing Harry’s coarse, black pubic hair. He swallowed and hummed a little, letting the vibrations travel through the cock in his mouth.   
  
Harry whimpered, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. He was maddeningly close. Frustratingly,  _ heart-poundingly _ close. Draco hollowed out his cheeks, sucking hard and fast, and Harry was done for.   
  
“ Draco! I’m-- oh fuck!”   
  
Grey eyes rolled up to look at Harry, and there was a clear,  _ yes, that would be the point of this _ , look in them. Draco pulled back off of Harry’s cock some so that he wouldn’t choke, and then continued to suck.  
  
With a hoarse cry, Harry came, his legs threatening to buckle with the force of it. His fingers tightened hard in the blond strands between them, and his chest heaved as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.   
  
Draco swallowed Harry’s release neatly before pulling off and wiping his mouth. Harry just stared at Draco as he got to his feet and moved to lean against the counter. “Feel free to be impressed,” he murmured, an uncertain look in his eyes.   
  
Harry blinked, coming back to himself. Now it was his turn to smirk, kicking his jeans and underwear away. He took his glasses off, setting them on the counter, and removed his shirt in one quick motion. Draco was a pale blur until Harry stepped closer. “I’m very impressed,” he said with a smile. “But you know, I can be impressive too.”   
  
A smile quirked Draco’s lips. “I have seen no evidence of this.”  
  
“ You just wait, Draco Malfoy.”   
  
“ I’ve been waiting for three years already,” the blond said with an arched brow. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”   
  
Harry looked at him in surprise. “You...really?”  
  
“ Of course,” Draco said, exasperated. “You are probably the most unsubtle person I’ve ever met save perhaps Greg and Weasley. I knew you were attracted to me, and I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it.”   
  
“ Why couldn’t  _ you  _ have made a move?”  
  
“ I might be on the side of righteousness and Gryffindor do-goodery, but I  _ am _ still a Malfoy,” Draco told him. “We like to be wooed. And for the record, jumping me in the kitchen does  _ not _ count as wooing.” He pushed off from the counter and headed for the door, summoning another peach as he went. “I’ll be upstairs. In your bed. Waiting for you,” he said as he left the kitchen.  
  
Harry shook his head, wondering what the actual fuck he had gotten himself into.   
  
Goddamned peaches.   
  
“ Does whatever we do in my bed count as wooing?” he called after Draco.  
  
“ Not even a little bit!” 


End file.
